


Competitors

by cnell



Series: Turning Page Productions [10]
Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries, Welcome to Sanditon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 11:47:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1468327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cnell/pseuds/cnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A change of direction for Pemberley Digital gives an unexpected twist to Lizzie and Darcy's relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Competitors

January 2016

 

“Okay, focus, people.” Fitz slid the last of several large takeout boxes onto the island counter of his designer kitchen and took a swipe at Darcy's phone, which Darcy deflected a neat turn of his elbow. “I _mean_ it. We have a Super Bowl party to plan.”

Gigi rolled her eyes. “Seriously, guys, can't we at least enjoy our dinner first?” She was sitting close to Sidney, leaning on his shoulder and playing with the cuff of his plaid sleeve, mainly to watch Darcy pretend not to notice. Sidney took another large gulp of his beer.

“Fine,” said Brandon. He was flipping through a binder with color-coordinated page markers, his biceps flexing beneath his dark skin and tight blue Adidas shirt. “First Japanese food and then we focus. I'm telling you, this year is going to be different.”

Lizzie gave Gigi an impish look from across the kitchen as she popped open a container of sashimi and started arranging the raw fish, soy sauce and garnish on a platter. Throwing the perfect Super Bowl party had been Brandon's mission for years, but circumstances always seemed to get in his way. First there was the party for the Ravens vs 49ers game in 2013, planned when Lizzie was shadowing Pemberley and canceled due to he-who-shall-not-be-named. Then the party the following year, with that incident involving a drunk, miserable Broncos fan and Fitz's newly-bought Italian wall hanging, which they had all sworn never to speak of again. Last year they had been more prepared and things were looking promising, until Brandon came down with mono two weeks out.

But this time, on the crucial occasion of Super Bowl 50, Brandon was determined to get it right. He'd found an evening when Gigi was visiting from Sanditon and nobody else was working or traveling or sick, so they could plan it all out. There would be banners, streamers, paper plates and napkins in team colors. There would be an assortment of NFL magazines on the coffee table and extra TVs and radios around the apartment. There would be chips and homemade salsa, microbrewed beer and Buffalo wings, all organic and locally sourced. There would be designated drivers and contingency plans for emergency cleanup. This time – to use an inappropriate sports metaphor – they had all the bases covered.

Darcy sighed with exaggerated boredom, still engrossed in sorting through emails and waiting for his phone to ring. “I do not understand why you need my input in the first place. I know next to nothing about American football.”

Brandon snapped the notebook closed. “Okay, three things.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “One, you are an American man currently located in America; two, you are _terrible_ at soccer; and three, I’ll have you know the Super Bowl is a time-honored display of brute strength, pageantry and commercialism that represents the very essence of our national character.”

By now, Darcy was struggling to hide a smile. Lizzie set her platter on the counter and backed away, hands raised. “Nope,” she laughed. “I'm out.”

“Me too,” said Gigi.

Fitz laid his hands on Brandon's shoulders and pushed him toward the dish cupboard. “Baby, go get plates and chopsticks. Darcy, stop provoking my boyfriend and put the phone away before it ends up in the freezer.”

Gigi cuddled Sidney's arm and batted her eyelashes at Darcy, who shot her a mock-stern frown. She and Sidney were officially a couple after ages of dancing around the issue. Following their first meeting at the end of the Domino beta test, they had gone out a few times, sent wistful messages on Facebook while Sidney moved to San Jose for work, agreed to just be friends and see other people, before finally reconnecting one romantic foggy evening just before Christmas last year. Lizzie thought it was completely adorable. Darcy was learning to live with it.

“You do realize how important this announcement is,” he said to Fitz, turning his back on his sister.

“For the twelfth time, yes I do.”

“This contract could re-establish Domino as a creative tool and put our entire brand back on course. It has been our primary goal for the last three months.”

“I know. I was there.” Fitz sat next to Brandon at the counter and started making his way through a bowl of edamame. “I am, in fact, the leader of your development team. Can we relax and think about something else for two seconds?”

The others exchanged wry smiles. They had heard little else from Darcy since he came back from England in September: his ongoing debate with Pemberley Digital's board of directors over the commercialization of Domino and what it meant for the company's future. Earlier in January, they had reached a tentative compromise. In exchange for this new creative direction for the app, Darcy would sign off on product placement contracts with select clients, those that met strict guidelines of business ethics and environmental sustainability.

He would have launched into the whole saga all over again if Lizzie hadn't interrupted, sliding into the seat next to him. “William,” she smiled, her chin propped in her hand, “are you showing off in front of Sidney?”

Brandon paused from handing out pairs of lacquered red-and-black chopsticks to snort with laughter. Sidney blushed. “What?” sputtered Darcy. “Of course not.”

“You totally are!” said Gigi, delighted. “You’re using your Big Important CEO voice!”

He scoffed and busied himself with his chopsticks. “That’s preposterous.”

“Oooh, that’s _preposterous_ ,” mimicked Lizzie, wiggling her fingers. “Don’t let him get to you, Sidney.”

“He’s not getting to me.” It was the first thing Sidney had said in the last twenty minutes. “Uh, I mean, not to say you _were_ showing off, Mist— I mean William. I mean Darcy!” He rubbed his forehead. “Can I have another beer, please?”

Fitz clutched at Brandon's arm, overcome with cute. “Ugh, _precious_. It’s like watching a kitten.”

“Guys, cut it out.” Gigi reached across the counter to snatch a piece of salmon out of Darcy's reach. “William is way more nervous about you than you are about him, Sidney, trust me.”

Meanwhile, Lizzie was trying to get the hang of her chopsticks and not having much luck. “No joke. He’s terrified of being laughed at by people younger and more Internet-savvy than he is.”

Darcy accepted her teasing with an indulgent smirk. “Says the woman who was able to launch an entire career by laughing at me on the Internet.”

She promptly took out her phone and started pulling up her YouTube channel. “Hey guys, who wants to relive Darcy’s Fitz imprefmmb—” She dissolved into muffled giggles as Darcy grabbed her and covered her mouth with his hand.

They all laughed. It broke the ice for Sidney, who was noticeably relieved as Fitz handed him a microbrew from the refrigerator. “This project you're talking about – it's that big literary conference in St. Louis, right?” Sidney said. “One of the digital media companies I consult with made a bid for it.”

“Yeah,” Fitz replied, “they’re trying to include an online audience this time. Livestreamed panel discussions, transmedia storytelling events, Q&A sessions on social media, stuff like that. They need to partner with someone who can attract and manage a big virtual community.”

Darcy saw his chance. “That’s where we come in. With a few adjustments, the Domino application can facilitate the required networks automatically. It will be a perfect fit.”

“You think so?” Lizzie's voice was suspiciously casual as she chased a stubborn chunk of rice around her plate.

He glanced sideways at her. “Meaning you do not, I suppose.”

“I just don’t think it’s wise to assume…” She stopped herself, shrugged and hopped off her chair to get a fork. “Eh, forget it. It’s all speculation at this point.”

Brandon opened his notebook with a flourish. “So! Football! Anybody!”

“No, let’s hear it,” Darcy said. “How is Domino ill-suited for an interactive media event? Indulge me.”

Lizzie turned to meet his challenging smile, hands on her hips. “Fine, Mr. Darcy.”

“Oh god, here we go,” mumbled Fitz. Brandon rolled his eyes and jabbed sullenly at his dinner.

Gigi motioned them all to attention. “Okay, Sidney and I are judging this debate,” she declared, looking at her watch. “You have ten minutes, guys. Startiiiing _now_.”

Lizzie didn't hesitate. “Domino’s really innovative and everything, it’s just – well, it’s cliquey.”

Darcy arranged his chopsticks at a precise angle on the sides of his plate and folded his hands on the counter. “It’s ‘clicky’?”

“Exclusive.”

“I do not see how,” he replied. “Domino can create extensive networks across multiple platforms almost instantaneously. You remember, Gigi – we had 90% coverage among Sanditon’s target demographic by the end of the first week. The algorithms have only improved since then.”

“Yes,” Lizzie said, opening the silverware drawer, “but the reach of each person’s Domino network still depends on how many people they have in their contacts list. It centers the whole discussion around people who are already well-connected and makes it difficult to join in from the outside. Sidney, am I right?”

Sidney swallowed, but stood his ground. “I did notice there was kind of an inner circle of townspeople when I logged in.”

“Good thing they all thought you were totally dreamy,” Gigi said.

Lizzie paced across the kitchen, gesturing expressively with her fork. “Then there’s the auto-editing based on vocal inflections and so forth. That’s great for people who are naturals at public speaking, but introverts might find it intimidating. If I were a shy teenager nervous about being on camera, the last thing I’d need is my video software judging me for being boring.”

Darcy's bravado was slipping into a thoughtful frown as he watched her. “I envisioned the application with my own limitations in mind, and I consider myself introverted.”

She flashed a cheeky grin at him. “Not with the right motivation, you’re not.”

“Ew, get a room,” said Fitz.

“I mean I _love_ heterosexuals,” mused Brandon, “some of my _best friends_ are heteros, but why do they have to be so in-your-face about it, you feel me?”

Lizzie returned to her seat and scooped up a forkful of rice. “I’m just saying, you need to make sure a wide range of people feel immersed in the experience. A person’s influence should depend on the quality of their ideas, not who they know or how assertive they are.”

Gigi nodded. Darcy glared at her. “What?” she said. “It’s a good point.”

“An admirable thought, perhaps, but it does not seem practical. Effective communicators will always have a certain advantage in group discussions.”

“And that’s why you need moderators who can properly interact with the community and bring forward ideas that might otherwise be drowned out,” Lizzie returned smoothly. “Look, I’m all for new technology, but algorithms can’t take the place of storytellers. If you want an event like this to work, it needs to be built around real people who can see the bigger picture.”

Darcy paused, taking this in, but before he could reply his phone buzzed against the counter – not with a call, but an email. He grabbed the phone and read the message once, then twice. When he finally looked up at Lizzie, his face was blank with astonishment.

She stared back in confusion. “What's –?”

Then her own phone rang in the pocket of her sweater, and she went pale.

“You should answer that,” Darcy said.

Lizzie fumbled in her pocket, slid off her chair and walked away to grip the edge of the sink with her free hand. “This is Lizzie. Of course, hello, how are you?” A long silence, and then she spoke again, her voice shaking ever so slightly. “That... Wow. Really? I mean, thank you, that’s wonderful news. I’m looking forward to it, too. Okay, um. We’ll be in touch soon. Thanks again. Bye.”

She hung up and turned around, clutching her phone. She was flushed and out of breath.

“You never told me you applied for the conference,” Darcy said.

“Because I never thought we...” Lizzie's eyes went wide as the implications sank in. “William, I’m so s—”

“Don’t.” He held up his hand. “Don’t ever apologize.”

“Lizzie,” Gigi said in a hushed voice. “You won.”

“Oh my god.” Another moment of shock, and then a broad, giddy smile spread across her face. “Oh my god!” She bounced up and down as Gigi hurried over to hug her, followed closely by Darcy and Fitz. Brandon closed his football notebook with a resigned sigh and tossed it across the kitchen to the table.

Lizzie flung her arms around Darcy one more time and squeezed the breath out of him, then ran into the living room to get her project team on the phone. They were now badly behind schedule and would need to meet at Turning Page Productions that very night to work out the details – and they would want to celebrate.

Fitz strolled up behind Darcy and Gigi and leaned his arms across their shoulders. “So am I off base here, or did we just get our collective ass handed to us by your girlfriend?”

“Leave my ass out of this, please,” said Gigi. “Come on, Sidney. It looks like we have a different kind of party to organize.” She grabbed Sidney's hand and left to join Lizzie, aiming a smug little smile at her brother as she went. “Should I charge the champagne to you directly, or...?”

“That would be easiest,” Darcy said wryly. “Fitz...”

“Yup, meeting first thing tomorrow, got it.” Fitz shook his head, grinning, as Lizzie's excited laughter rang out in the next room. “This kind of changes everything, doesn’t it?”

“Yes it does.”

 

* * *

 

“Ten more minutes and then we clean up.” Lizzie's words slurred just a bit.

“That's what you said twenty minutes ago,” Darcy murmured. It was past midnight, and he and Lizzie were finally alone in her dimly-lit office, sprawled lopsided across the couch. Her desk and meeting table were piled high with pizza boxes and empty bottles of Pol Roger, and the walls were covered in multicolored Post-It notes scrawled with ideas for the literary festival.

Lizzie yawned and moved her head to a better position against his shoulder. “Hey, it's not my fault you're so comfortable.”

“I assume you're referring to my usefulness as a pillow, and not the fact that I'm lying on your purse.”

“Wow, I still can't believe this is happening,” she breathed. “We've never tackled a project this big before. It's like...” She swept her arm above their heads, her fingers tracing patterns in the air. “It's like we've all created our own little crazy worlds on the Internet and now we get to pull them all together into one big crazy storytelling universe. God, that champagne is _amazing_.”

She reached across him to grab her plastic wine glass from the floor, drank the last of it and flopped back on top of him. He smiled down at her, bleary-eyed and proud.

“Oh, but, William,” she mumbled against his chest, “you had a strategy. What are you going to do?”

“It’s all right, Lizzie. I will think of a new one.”

She hummed and nestled closer. He brushed her hair away from her forehead with his fingertips and gazed at the patches of city light slanting across the ceiling from the window.

“You’ve done me a favor, you know,” he said softly. “For months I have tried to convince the board that we were straying too far from our central purpose, and now they finally believe me. They'll be all too eager to redirect our resources just to keep up with you.” He hesitated over his next words, feeling the undeniable truth of them. “I would gladly spend the rest of my life trying to keep up with you.”

She didn't answer. Darcy listened to her breathing for a moment, then sighed. “You’re asleep, aren’t you?”

Lizzie snored.

Careful not to wake her, he shifted his torso until the handle of her purse was not digging quite so sharply between his shoulder blades, kicked off his shoes and closed his eyes. He would send for a car in a few hours, and arrange for a cleaning service to take care of Lizzie's office.

There would be time enough for other matters, he thought. Not tonight, but soon.


End file.
